Monday, 21 June 2010

The Longest Day.

Today is the Summer Solstice and the Longest Day. Up here in the North of England it really hardly gets dark this time of year. It is still light at eleven o'clock and by two in the morning the sky is beginning to lighten. By three o'clock in the morning the birds are singing.

For once the Solstice is accompanied by gloriously sunny weather and a slight breeze - just the weather for haymaking, which since nine o'clock this morning has been well underway.

Those buttercups which shone out so bravely in the paddock last week are cut down and lie fading on the ground. The farmer makes hay for various people around here and they are coming out of the woodwork like flies this morning so he is off here and there cutting fields to make hay. It is good to see him because he loves it - he loves the whole process of making hay. In these days of silage few farmers bother with hay but he loves the smell of the cut grass and he loves stacking the sweet smelling bales into the hay barn. In addition - that is where the farm cats sleep and they love a bed of hay bales to sleep on - those cats can twist the farmer round their little claws.

An update on the curlew's nest in the silage field - although the nest is quite vulnerable as the grass is cut all round, Mrs Curlew is sitting tight. I walked quietly up to the nest after lunch and she took off - the four eggs look as thought they might be chipping. If so there will soon be baby curlew. Once they are hatched they leave the nest and never return. I shall keep my eye on things and let you know how things go. Keep our fingers crossed.

The weather forecast says this weather is set to last all week, so everything should be fine for haymakers and curlews alike. Have a nice day!

22 comments:

Oh, that's a beautiful field of hay. I was just chatting on the phone last night to my daughter in New York and we were comparing our shades of twilight. It's hard to believe it's already the longest day of the year. Where did the time go?

I recently took some photos of green fields and fields full of buttercups in Dentdale - the valley looked from the hillside like a patchwork quilt - but mine's an old fashioned camera with a roll of film in it so I'll have to wait a while to see how they come out. Meantime I'll enjoy your summery pictures. Snap on, Weaver, snap on!

We do miss those long long lingering eveningsof linden bloom and wisteria ( a little earlier perhaps)and the scent of peoniesand new cut grass

This is turning into a bad pastiche of "Granchester"which R. Brooke did rather a wonderful job on.Am reading Margaret Drabble's non fiction book about writers and the English landscape.Really well done.

I remember watching the twilight move around the northern horizon way bac before the advent of shopping centers, high intensity lighting and the growth of the city now surrounding us. the second clutch of baby robins are now runnig free in the garden. The baby raccoons are as active and inquisitive as can be. Days are hot - nights are nice and cool. ATB!

One of the best books I ever bought my momma was an illustrated journal kept by an English woman of the flowers and birds and things she saw from day to day (the name has flown right out of my head). Perhaps someday people will be buying your journal to give to their beloved relatives...

I suppose you pay for the daylight in the dark days of winter. Although, being a lover of the night...

While visiting Europe, I loved the lateness of the day. Gave me an opportunity to siesta in late afternoon and still enjoy the day at night. Alaska offers the same in summer. Probably lots of other places I haven't had the chance to visit, like your country. Seems like I'm missing a great deal by not having done that yet.